Patience
by xPorcelain Lolitax
Summary: Sam and Castiel have a chat about the importance of patience while oblivious Dean remains blind to the most obvious thing in the world. Destiel.


Patience

It was a long story how the two of them ended up in a cramped motel room with a German Sheppard. Dean led the dog in by its leash and left the creature to sniff around while he and Sam went over to the laptop.

"Okay, so ghosts are possessing animals now? Why?" Sam asked, sitting down at the small table. Dean leaned over his brother's shoulder and looked down at the screen.

"I don't know. It might have something to do with that doctor. Did you see his bookcase? All witchcraft stuff, dark magic," Dean leaned back with his hands on his hips. "Seriously, people have got to stop messing around with this kind of stuff," he said, sighing.

"Tell me about it," Sam muttered. A flutter of papers made both men look up to see Castiel standing near the beds. The dog momentarily lost its mind and began barking at the angel, who raised his arm to silence the beast.

"Whoa! Cas! Wait," Dean cried, rushing over to the two. He grabbed the dog by the collar and patted its side.

"There boy, it's just Cas." The angel looked down at the animal, tilting his head to the side a little. Then he looked up at Sam.

"Do you have any leads?" he asked. Sam looked up, releasing a long, drawn-out breath.

"Yeah, the doctor." The dog sniffed at Castiel's trench-coat, making him look down.

"Okay, I'll go talk to the doc. You check out that dead girl, find out where she's buried, all that," Dean said as he leaned down to grab his pistol from off the bed. Sam took in a deep breath in response and started typing. Castiel stood there, staring down at the animal, then turned to watch Dean leave the room.

"Uh, Cas?" Sam called after a few minutes. Castiel turned to him, his typical blank, slightly confused expression on his face as usual. Sam looked at him for a moment, then down at the computer, making a slight gesture towards it with his arms and shoulders.

"We don't really need your help anymore. I mean, we just gotta find some bones, grab some books," Sam said carefully, watching Castiel, who was looking at him with the same, blank expression.

"Or you can stay," Sam finally said, going back to typing. Castiel looked down at the dog, then sat down on the bed as the animal followed. The dog barked once, making Sam look up. He glanced at Cas, then at the dog, who barked again.

"I think he's hungry," Sam said. He motioned over to a KFC bucket. "Give him some of that," he instructed Castiel. The angel turned around to look at the bucket, then slowly took one cold piece of breaded chicken out. The dog's ears perked up and he made an impatient sound. Castiel leaned forward on his knees, holding the piece of chicken in his hand. He stared the dog down, holding the meat just out of his reach. The dog whined and pawed at Castiel's leg until the angel gave in and threw the meat down. Sam glanced up quickly and smiled.

"You can give him a few more. Those are small pieces," he said before returning to work. Castiel turned around on the bed and grabbed the whole bucket from the night-table. He placed it next to him and extracted another small piece of breaded chicken from the bucket. He held it up, and the dog once more whined and pawed at him.

"No. Wait," Castiel told him, holding the meat beyond the dog's reach. The dog whined some more, then barked. Castiel still didn't give it to him.

"You have to be patient," he told the dog, who ceased his pawing and whining, and stared calmly at Castiel. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Castiel finally gave in and handed the meat to him. Once he was done eating that piece, he looked up at Castiel once more, pawing at his leg again. The angel picked another piece out of the bucket and held it in the air.

"No. Wait," he told the dog again when he began whining. "You must be patient. Good things come to those who wait," he mumbled quietly, staring somewhere above the dog's head. He sat there for a while, holding the meat in the air, with the dog licking his lips and whining at his feet.

"Cas, are you going to give it to him or not?" Sam asked, looking up from his computer. Castiel blinked a few times, then looked at Sam. The hunter leaned back, watching as Castiel's expression went from hurt to blank and confused.

"You okay, Cas?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said, handing the meat to the dog, then standing up. He turned his back on Sam, who crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the angel.

"Listen, if you need someone to talk to," he began, but Castiel lightly shook his head.

"You can just tell him, you know. You don't have to wait for him to notice," Sam said, raising his eyebrows a little. Castiel looked down, then turned a little to look at Sam, the same hurt expression from before reappearing, though this time paired with a look of panic and confusion.

"I don't think that is wise," he said after a few moments before quickly turning back to the windows. He brought his hand up to his neck to rub it a little.

"Cas," Sam called, but Castiel disappeared in a flutter of flying papers. Sam sighed and went back to work. Dean burst through the doors a few moments later, covered in dirt and swearing profusely.

"Damn, plan B. Where's that bitch buried so we can torch her?"

"Uh, working on it," Sam said, fumbling a little with the keyboard. In truth he hasn't gotten far. Just then Castiel reappeared, startling the dog again, making him bark.  
"Cas, where'd you go?" Dean asked, turning to him with an accusatory look. "We really could use your help more often. I just nearly got turned into wood chippings! Or human chippings, whatever," Dean said, turning away to grab his bag off the floor. He opened it up to check if he had salt, kerosene, and a lighter. Sam watched the exchange, then gave a long, meaningful look to Castiel, who quickly glanced in his direction, then quickly back down at the floor.

"I found out where the woman was buried," Castiel said, walking a little closer to Dean.

"And you didn't tell me that earlier because?" Dean asked, looking up from the bag.

"I just found out now," Castiel replied.

"Well that's great! I nearly got killed, and you just appear and disappear and you get the info we need! Super-freaking-tastic," Dean growled, turning back to the bag.

"Sorry," Castiel mumbled. Dean turned around to look at him, his eyes quickly darting to the angel's lips.

"Whatever. Let's just go torch the bitch," Dean said, throwing the bag over his shoulder. Sam watched from the chair, arms crossed. He raised his eyebrows a little when Dean looked at him, then stood up and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

"Okay, lead the way Cas," Dean said, turning back to the angel.

"She's buried in the park, under an old oak tree."

"The one with the plaque under it?" Dean asked, squinting a little. "Where we found him?" He pointed to the dog. Castiel nodded.

"That's right."

"All right, let's go," Dean said, heading for the door. Castiel followed with Sam behind him.

"Cas," Sam said quietly as they exited the motel room. The angel turned his head. "Sometimes, you have to be a little impatient," Sam said, shrugging a little. They both looked towards Dean as he threw the bag down into the Impala's trunk. Castiel didn't reply and continued staring, even as Dean turned to them both and gave them a confused look. Sam sighed and patted Castiel's shoulder, then headed over to the passenger's side of the car. The two hunters heard the sound of wings fluttering and when they turned around, Castiel was gone.

"So, are we ganna leave the dog there or what?" Dean asked as he got into the driver's seat.

"I don't know. I guess we keep him until the ghost is taken care of. Then we can take him to a local shelter."

"Right," Dean said, starting the engine. They drove for a few minutes before Dean noticed that Sam kept glancing at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Sam replied, feigning innocence. "Just," Sam began, looking back at Dean. "I was talking with Cas earlier."

"Yeah? What'd he say?" Dean quickly asked, paying more attention to Sam. The younger man chuckled a little, looking out the window.

"What?" Dean asked, some anger and irritation in his voice.

"Nothing," Sam said, quickly composing himself. "We just talked about, well, about you," Sam said, smiling a little. Dean shot him a dangerous look, then turned back to the road.

"What did you guys say about me?"

"That you're not very observant and need time," Sam replied. Dean looked at Sam again, more confused than irritated this time. But then they arrived at their destination, and Sam quickly got out of the car before Dean could ask more. He sighed, getting out, too, following Sam as he unloaded the weapons from the trunk then quickly headed into the park.

"So you're not going to explain?" he asked loudly. Sam faked confusion.

"Explain what?"

"That, in the car," Dean said, pointing to the Impala. Sam shook his head a little.

"Oh, no. You'll figure it out, eventually. You're not that dense," Sam explained, then picked up the shovel. Dean sighed, squatting down in front of the big tree as Sam dug.


End file.
